These are the words I shared in honor and celebration of my mother, Miriam Patricia Irons:
You may feel you know Miriam Irons, especiallly those of you who have known her since she and my father first moved to Bryan in 1986. I suspect that it is the case for most of you that she knows you better than you know her. That's nothing against you. Rather it has everything to do with my Mom who wanted to know everything about you, your family, your in-laws, your friends, your acquaintances, your home towns, your bosses' neighbors, etc. So many of my conversations with Mom were about some connection she made with someone's neighbor, cousin or aunt and I would have to stop her and ask, "Now who are you talking about? And how do I know them?" She'd say I didn't, but she commenced to tell me how I was connected. If you met her, I guaranteed she knew about you, and she may have known about you if you never met her. Let me share some things about Miriam Irons that you may not know.
Miriam Patricia Irons, my mother, was born in Beatrice, Nebraska on November 14, 1935 to Donald and Virdelia Morton. She was 74 when she was born anew to God's everlasting peace on Thursday, June 17, 2010 after battling first with breast cancer and then with colon cancer. Mom was the oldest of four daughters that were born into the Alpine Dairy Farm just outside of Beatrice. She liked to talk about, OK, brag about riding to her one-room school on a horse and driving a tractor at 9 years old. She also confessed about putting same tractor in the ditch and having to have it pulled out.
Mom moved to the "town" school in the ninth grade and graduated from Beatrice High School in 1953. She entered the University of Nebraska and graduated with a degree in Home Economics in 1957. She did graduate work in early childhood education and special education through the University of Missouri but never completed her Masters.
She met my father at Nebraska church camp, the Disciples CYF Conference of the day. Subsequently, Dad came and worked summers on the farm between college semesters. They married on June 14, 1958, 52 years ago this past Monday. They were married 46 years before Dad left us in 2004. They lived in towns in Nebraska, Missouri, and Texas.
I believe that Mom and Dad's first home was in the grand metropolis of Beaver Crossing, Nebraska where Dad preached and Mom taught in a one-room school house. After Dad finished college, they moved to New Franklin, MO. Close to Columbia, Missouri, Dad went to seminary there and Mom did her graduate work. In Dawn, Missouri, Mom taught second grade until a pesky demanding son came along. Mom never taught full-time in public school again, but she substituted, she worked for the Dept. of Agriculture in Missouri teaching recipients how to use government commodity foods. She taught cooking at Kerrville State School. Most recently, you may know, she taught Mother's Day Out in this church (First Christian Church of Bryan) and then at the First Presbyterian Church's Young Childhood Center.
Always creative, she came up with fun ways to teach and engage her students, even her kids. Halloween was a particularly favorite holiday for her. She dressed us up as Uncle Sam, clowns, panthers, walking totem poles, and robots. We never had to worry about being unique.
The song that the choir will sing in a little bit is a good summation of my mother. She approached the world from an attitude of humility. It was so shocking to hear her say a harsh word about anybody. Mom was an adventurer, approahed the world and others with excitment about what she could learn and she never prejudged. As we were growing up, we had a succession of International 4-H Youth Exchange stuents in our house, from Turkey, Thailand, Nepal, Holland, and New Zealand. She was never afraid to try new things - even belly dancing when she was in her 70s! I think it was because of her spirit of adventure that I became an exchange student overseas in New Zealand myself. I think under the right circumstances, Mom could have easily been a world traveler, an international food consultant, or even a missionary.
She loved to show kindness to others, especially those who were on the fringes of society: the little children, the poor, the disadvantaged, children and adults with special needs. She hated injustice and hated for anybody to be excluded for any reason, race, age, disability, etc. She hated exclusiveness and she hated for us to say hate. All three of us who grew up with her can recite: Don't say "hate." You don't hate anybody, you hate what they do.
But something she hated more than anything else was the thought of moving. I know, she married into the wrong profession. Her sense of adventure stopped right there. With a passion and masterfully creative skill, she avoided attempts to move her out of this home and church of 24 years. The only real argument I can remember having with my mother in her adult life was when we talked about her moving after Dad died.
Miriam Irons was a pioneer in the Green Movement. Ralph Nader and the Green Party had nothing on her. She practiced the premise "God doesn't make any trash" on a very personal daily basis. She did her personal part to keep the landfills free of clutter. Her favorite question, "You're not going to throw that away, are you?" In her mind, everything was recyclable. I stopped wrapping my friends houses with toilet paper at an early age, and not for the reason you think. I stopped wrapping houses because "friends" then would wrap mine. And when our house was wrapped, my mother jumped for joy. She ran out and collected the toilet paper in paper bags and I didn't know why at first. Only when we went to the restroom and there wasn't any toilet paper on the roll... just this paper bag on the floor.
Mom had one particular hobby that stands out. She loved to knit and perhaps even more give away dish cloths and pot holders. I would guess that many of you possess one or more of those. To me, they represent her view of God's world, that we are wonderfully knit together, all of us. The adventure is to find out how.
Mom's legacy lives on in me and my two sisters, Janel and Megan; in our respective spouses: Donna Irons, Clay McQuerry, and Justin Loflin. Her legacy lives on in her grandchildren in: Kimberly Johnson, Joel Johnson, Bethany McQuerry, Ami Irons, Casey McQuerry, Timothy Irons, Zachary Loflin and Kaylee Loflin; sisters and brothers-in-law, Deanna and Wally White of Missouri, Linda and George Mahathy of Tennessee and Virginia Young of Missouri; and numerous extended family and friends.
You are all aware, I'm sure, that I ended up in the ministry following my Dad's footsteps, but it was the example, commitment and faith of my mother which provided the greatest reinforcement of my calling. When I was fourteen, my maternal grandfather, Donald Morton, died. It hit me hard, the first death of a loved one I had really experienced. I remember traveling in the funeral car to the service and my aunts and uncles were joking, laughing, and having a good time. I was furious and my Mom could tell. I couldn't believe that they were laughing and I said so, scowling as only a 14-year-old can. Mom said, "Don't you believe Grandpa is in heaven that he's found joy and peace?" I responded, "I don't know what I believe" and stomped away to the service. It was the utter joy and confidence in her eyes that remained with me.
Mom, if you had any doubt, I've come around. I believe there is a place of eternal peace, of overwhelming grace and acceptance. It's an adventure like no other. You'll never be asked to throw anything away - and I don't believe you'll have to worry about moving.
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